1829.] Memoirs of John Shipp. 255 
another retreat. If any sight could be exhibited to the human eye that was 
calculated to work upon the feelings of men already disappointed and dis- 
pirited, it was the scene that was exposed to our view on approaching this 
breach ; for there lay our poor comrades who had fallen in previous attempts, 
many of them in a state of nudity ; some without heads; some without arms 
or legs; and others whose bodies exhibited the most barbarous cruelties, for 
they were literally cut to pieces. The sight was truly awful and appalling, 
and the eye of pity closed instinctively on such a spectacle of woe. Those 
who attempted to extend the hand of relief were added to the number of the 
slain, as the spot was much exposed to a cross-fire from the fort. Could any 
sight be more distressing for affectionate comrades to look on? I say affec- 
tionate, for, among men living together in one barrack, and, perhaps, under 
one tent, in familiar intercourse, there must be a greater regard for each other 
than is found to subsist among those who meet casually, once a day or once 
a week. Ina soldier’s barrack, the peculiarities, good or bad, of every indi-~ 
vidual are known; added to which, arduous services will always link men 
together in the bond of union and affection. Many of these mutilated objects 
still breathed, and could be seen to heave the agonized bosom, some raised 
their heads clotted with blood ; others their legs and arms; and, in this man- 
ner, either made signs to us, or faintly cried for help and pity. It was a sight 
to turn nature’s current, and to melt a heart of stone. Such was its effect 
upon our lines, that, after a short conflict of the softer feelings, the eye of 
every man flashed the vivid spark of vengeance against the cruel race who 
had committed such wanton barbarities ; and, if mortal effort could have sur- 
mounted the obstacles in our path, those who witnessed the horrid scene I 
have just described must infallibly have succeeded. But the effort was beyond 
mortal power. Braver hearts, or more loyal, never left the Isle of Albion, 
than those who fell like withered leaves, and found a soldier’s grave at 
Bhurtpore. 
-© Our ascent was found, for the fourth time, to be quite impossible: every 
man who showed himself was sure of death. The soldiers in the fort were in 
chain armour. I speak this from positive conviction, for I myself fired at one 
man three times in the bastion, who was not six yards from me, and he did 
not even bob his head. We were told afterwards, that every man defending 
the breach was in full armour, which was a coat, breast-plate, shoulder- 
plates, and armlets, with a helmet and chain face-guard; so that our shots 
could avail but little. I had not been on the breach more than five minutes, 
when I was struck with a large shot on my back, thrown down from the top 
of the bastion, which made me lose my footing, and I was rolling down side- 
ways, when I was brought up by a bayonet of one of our grenadiers passing 
through the shoe, into the fleshy part of the foot, and under the great toe. 
My fall carried everything down that was under me. The man who assisted 
me in getting up, was at that moment shot dead: his name was Courtenay, 
of the 22d Light Company. I regained my place time enough to see poor 
Lieutenant Templer, who planted the colour on the top, cut to pieces, by one 
of the enemy rushing out, and cutting him almost in two, as he lay flat upon 
his face on the top of the breach. The man was immediately shot dead, and 
trotted to the bottom of the ditch. I had not been in my new place long, 
when a stink-pot, or other earthen pot, containing combustible matter, fell on 
my pouch, in which were about fifty rounds of ball cartridges. The whole 
exploded: my pouch I never saw more, and I was precipitated from the top 
to the bottom of the bastion. How I got there in safety I know not; but, 
when I came to myself, I found I was lying under the breach, with my legs 
in the water» I was much hurt from the fall, my face was severely scorched, 
my clothes much burnt, and all the hair on the back of my head burnt off: 
I for a time could not tell where I was. I crawled to the opposite side of the 
bank, and seated myself by a soldier of the same company, who did not know 
me. I sat here, vee unable to move, for some little time, till a cannon-balt 
struck in the ditch, which knocked the mud all over me. This added greatly 
